


Fits and Starts

by manonlechat



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Angst, Crack, Dark, Drabble Collection, Drama, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Other, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manonlechat/pseuds/manonlechat
Summary: My collection of stand-alone Inuyasha drabbles. Multiple genres & pairings---Romance! Drama! Humor! Horror! Fluff! Crossovers! Crack!Special reoccurring appearances by Sesshoumaru's Mother and Jaken.
Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha, Jaken/Sesshoumaru's Mother (InuYasha), Miroku/Sango (InuYasha), Rin/Sesshoumaru (InuYasha)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	1. The Calm That Follows

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my collection of _Inuyasha_ drabbles! Each drabble is standalone and all were originally written between 2006-2009. Enjoy! Let me know what you think of them! ~ Manon

_The Calm That Follows_

The storms were wild the summer Rin conceived.

Winds buffeted her as she stumbled beside her demon husband. They howled outside the cave where she awaited his return.

On a night he was away, she crept out alone--the dragon and Jaken asleep, their shadows flickering against the stone walls.

Rain was driven into her eyes as soon as she left the safety of their shelter. Sea-loud roars assaulted her ears as she scrambled up the rocky promontory; her bare feet slipping on sharp stones, her fingers clutching at the black and rain-soaked brambles.

She climbed as high as she dared, inching out on the ledge, wary of the sudden gust that might come from behind. She struggled against the fear and jealousy, and wiped her rain-soaked hair from her face.

_She had his love, his body, his child growing within her. What would the admission cost her?_

_He'd saved her, and learned to protect. He'd failed the other, and learned compassion._

_What did it matter if compassion wasn't love? Without that second lesson, would he have learned the others that followed?_

"I was there before you—" she yelled into the gale, "—But you were first."

The wind caressed her skull, threaded harmless, joyful fingers through her hair.


	2. Jaken Takes the Risk

_Jaken Takes the Risk_

Jaken kicked his heels resentfully against the dragon's side, urging it to land. He steeled himself for death.

Sesshoumaru-sama was going to _kill_ him.

His master would never forgive this screw-up. And lying to Lord Sesshoumaru was out of the question; he was too perceptive--and intimidating. The situation was hopeless.

The injured demon was sprawled on the leaves, his head resting against a tree. "Tessaiga... Give me Tessaiga," Sesshoumaru muttered, his eyes glassy. Jaken tracked the passage of a thin line of drool unnoticed by the raving daiyoukai.

On the other hand, Sesshoumaru-sama was definitely not himself today.

Sesshoumaru finally noticed his servant's reappearance. "Jaken, did you succeed in your mission?"

Jaken threw himself down in prostration. He squeezed his eyes shut, inhaled a deep breath, and told The Lie.

"I searched everywhere, my lord! That wretched half-demon and interfering human must have hidden your arm! It's so despicable! Have they no honor? No sense of decency? If I ever find your lordship's miserable half-brother I will slay him myself! How could they be so cruel to Sesshoumaru-sama?" He wept.

Sesshoumaru lost interest in Jaken's sputtering. He clutched the stump of his missing arm and growled. _Inuyasha was going to fucking die._

Jaken sniffed, his forehead pressed firmly to the ground. He whispered fervent prayers of thanksgiving to his mother and all the illustrious ancestors.

The as-yet-unnamed dragon shifted beneath its saddle. The head that would be known as _Ah_ belched, while _Un_ sucked his teeth quite innocently.


	3. Untold Secrets

_Untold Secrets_

_I'll consign you to oblivion without suffering._   
_\- Naraku to Princess Abi_

Shrill, bird-like in her quickness and coldness. There is even something strangely endearing in her loyalty and obedience to her powerful and stupid mother. Powerful, stupid, and _useful_ mother, Naraku amends.

He admires her rich black hair and the aura of metallic tang--like blood, or the sharpness of autumn--that follows her. Admires her well-formed limbs, the glints of burnished gold around her shapely ankles.

She is aristocratic, fearless, born of fire. He wants to impress and spare her. _Look, look at what a self-made half-demon with brains and ambition can do. Double-cross me because I am a hanyou?_ The indignation curls in his belly.

Is it lust? Somewhat. Yet he doesn't want to hear her scream, doesn't even want to see her kneel; instead, Naraku imagines victory or foolish amusement flashing in Abi's sharp red eyes. He _likes_ her. He finds himself sincerely wishing that she _won't_ betray him, that he might somehow allow her to live.

Naraku closes his eyes and smiles. He can't even blame the milkish Onigumo for _this_ attraction.

*

"You killed Abi-hime quickly," observes Kagura later. He hears the click and swish of her fan as she hides her expression in the shadows.

"More than I would do for you," Naraku says lazily. He squeezes her heart until she's gulping for air like a fish, then squeezes it again.


	4. The Best Laid Plans

_The Best Laid Plans_

He had to do it.

_For Sango's sake._

What good would it be for her to know that the Kazanna might be irreparably damaged? _What good to burden her with additional concern?_ Better not to let her suspect, not to let her suffer. There was only one way to convince Sango that he was alright, that he was his old self. _Only one way to ease her anxiety._

Miroku reached out and cupped Kikyou's bottom.

He smiled, sighed, closed his eyes and rubbed, waiting for the female shrieks of outrage and Sango's well-placed knock on his head.

Instead there was a small CRACK. Through the fabric of Kikyou's trousers, something gave way in Miroku's hand.

"What was that?" Kagome asked.

Miroku's eyelids snapped open, his hand rooted to Kikyou's left butt cheek.

"This body is only clay and grave dust," Kikyou unhelpfully volunteered.

"Houshi-sama…" A frightening look of comprehension began to suffuse Sango's features. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"It… it… it just came OFF," he stuttered, his eyes wide and darting from face to face in panic.

"What an IDIOT," said Shippou, crowding past Kirara for a closer look.

"Oh, dear," murmured Kagome.

"Hey, Inuyasha!" the kitsune yelled, craning his head toward the adjacent room, "take a look at _this_!"

Miroku stayed frozen, too terrified to remove his hand from the seat of Kikyou's pants.

"Sango… I did it all for you!" he gasped wildly.

"It serves you right!" she answered, crossing her arms in a huff and blinking back tears.


	5. Morning in His Eyes

_Morning in His Eyes_

Some mornings in the Feudal Era were better than others.

Tucked beneath her blanket, Kagome pretended to sleep. Peering through the fringe of her eyelashes, she struggled against the urge to yawn—some things were worth a little lost rest.

_It was going to be a beautiful sunrise._

The darkness gradually lessened, shading the world in chilly hues of indigo. In the branches of some nearby trees, birds shook their wings and intermittently cawed.

Shippou's foxtail fluttered rhythmically beneath her chin. She thought affectionately of her cat Buyo, the way his plump body curled comfortably against hers.

The others began to stir. Miroku sighed, turned over in his sleep. Somewhere behind her shoulders, she heard Kirara begin to wash with wet, scraping strokes.

Through half-shut eyes, Kagome watched the black-haired boy who sat across from her, hugging a sword against his chest. _Not much longer._ Blue and indigo paled into silvery morning grey, night retreated into the forming shadows.

She held her breath and counted down the moments.

The boy's chin perked up in anxious anticipation. He faced east.

Kagome faced west, felt warmth flood through her chest, as tendrils of gold exploded and curled, and glowed inside his eyes.


	6. Kaze no Kizu

_Kaze no Kizu_

"Agggghhhhhhhh!" shrieked Izayoi, tossing aside the silk quilts and leaping up from the floor.

"What? WHAT?" the great Inu no Taishou asked irritably. _Couldn't a daiyōkai relax in his own secret human lover's demon-hating father's shiro?_

Izayoi fanned the air with one arm, squeezing her nose tight with her free hand.

"I don't know WHAT you've been eating," she said threateningly, in a pinched nasally squeak, "but if you eat it again, don't even THINK about coming here!"

The Inu no Taishou grumbled some more, yanked the quilt over his shoulders, and mentally crossed _ox_ from his list of future dietary options.


	7. Mirror's Embryo

_Mirror's Embryo_

_They were wrong._

Inuyasha, the miko, their friends.

Her brother, her father, all of them were wrong.

_She wasn't dead._

Flung into the void, the fragment of mirror soared backwards through time—hurtling, rushing, careening—like a girl through a well.

She pulled her identity around that shard with the desperate memory of fingers and refused to allow it to dissolve.

Starry blackness and then the blackness like coal before the life is burnt from it. Finally, icy blackness—a world glutted with too many souls, too much dead light, the rumble of swart hell-demons.

She refused to stay in hell. She strained and gasped and, one day, finally pushed her white arms through the inky, obsidian pitch and felt wind.

She stepped out of a stone and plucked it up between her fingers.

She was clean and pallid, naked and shivering, as beautiful and well-formed as her younger sister once was. In tribute to the hanyou who had tried to save her, she took on the form of an inu-youkai.

She spurned silence after her rebirth. She spoke capriciously, merrily, willfully.

_Never foolishly._

She took a handsome youkai to mate and raised a strong son.

Even she was astonished when she realized the connection.

It was easy enough to lie about the Meidou's origins when her son came seeking her aid. Smiles came freely now. She suppressed laughter and fondly watched Sesshoumaru leave her shiro to kill her Father.

Glass or stone: she had always been good at manipulating voids.


	8. For Want of a Shoelace (or, How Jaken Got to Heaven)

_For Want of a Shoelace_ _(or, How Jaken Got to Heaven)_

For want of a shoelace, the shoe was lost.

For want of a shoe, Kagome was obliged to return to the Modern Era.

For want of a Kagome, Inuyasha got cranky and followed her, and so wasn't around when Naraku attacked out the blue, triggering The Final Battle with Naraku.

For want of an Inuyasha, Miroku decided to DO SOMETHING, opening his Kazanna to destroy the nefarious Naraku, and might have succeeded but for the fact that Sango, distraught with concern for his well-being, grabbed his arm, causing him to lose his balance and accidentally suck up Ah-Un, Kohaku, and Rin, who had finally arrived on the scene with Sesshoumaru, late as usual.

For want of a Rin, Sesshoumaru went mad-dog, bat-crazy, ape-shit; obliterating Naraku, Miroku, and Shippou, for good measure.

For want of Naraku (and a Miroku), Sango was forced to find a new purpose in life and began by consoling a devastated Sesshoumaru, who eventually recovered from the loss of his minions and found solace in her arms; in time, the two of them produced a long line of beautiful, angsty, and willful children, babysat by a much-abused Jaken, who had no modern amenities like television or video games to entertain them, so that by the time he died he had achieved Enlightenment from years of weary suffering, patience, and detachment, and so went straight to Nirvana.

And all for the want of a shoelace.


	9. The 400-Year-Old Virgin

_The 400-Year-Old Virgin_

Rin had already lost a husband and children to war when she encountered Sesshoumaru again. She dropped her basket and ran after him; leaving the human village forever.

She was a woman grown but he looked the same—a young man not a day over twenty.

She _hoped_. But he made no move. And one day it _clicked_ —his glances of longing and frustration.

"You've never been kissed before!"

The golden-eyed flash of shock gave her all the confidence she needed. She pressed her palms against his strong chest and kissed his lips; laughing as she tumbled on top of him.


	10. Never Ending Stories

_Never Ending Stories_

  
"I fell into a well," the old woman mumbled, as she often would to anyone who glanced at her.

This time two people listened. The elder of the two nodded.

"Yes, it was a pool for me, too. Many worlds are connected that way." She turned to her younger companion. "Lucy, do pour us more of this tea. I never imagined that I would enjoy tea without milk and sugar!"

Nurses bustled around the home, paying little mind to the old resident in her forgotten corner. No one seemed to notice the two Englishwomen sitting with her.

"I remember—" the old woman said, her thoughts feeble and maundering, "a boy pinned to a tree. And a jewel. I can't remember his name..."

The golden-haired visitor took and pressed her withered hand.

"So many years ago. They said it wasn't real. I can't remember his name."

There were tears in the old Japanese woman's eyes; her nose ran.

"I can't remember!" she said again and wept.

"My dearest," Lucy said, "it _was_ real. We've seen him."

The woman lifted her head.

"Inuyasha..."

Lucy smiled and nodded.

"He's been waiting for you for so long. They all have."

The old woman was growing younger and younger, her white hair turning black from the ends up to the roots.

"You can go to them," the Lady Polly added.

"Right this minute?" Kagome cried, and she was now a girl just a few years older than Lucy.

"Oh, yes," Lucy answered, "we've come for you." She laughed and pulled on Kagome's hand; Kagome leapt up.

"Further up and further in!" roared Aslan.


	11. Inuyasha Go Bragh

_Inuyasha Go Bragh_

"Inuyasha, I sense it has a shard of the sacred jewel!"

"Yellow moons, orange stars, green clovers, blue diamonds, purple horseshoes, PINK SHIKONS!" cackled the green-suited creature gleefully, clutching the shard between forefinger and thumb and bounding about wildly.

"Careful," warned Miroku. "I don't think it's human."

"Whatever it is, it's going DOWN. Hand over the jewel shard!" barked Inuyasha.

"Lousy kids, you're always after 'me Lucky Charms!" the creature howled. "FROSTED MARBIT ATTACK!"

A burst of tiny pastel objects pelted the group. Inuyasha deflected the shower with Tessaiga.

"Tee-hee! No one can resist 'me frosted Lucky Charms, they're magically destructive!"

"I've had about enough of this..." growled Inuyasha. "KAZE NO KIZU!"

"Got him!" said Sango, as the bouncing figure exploded into a thousand glowing bits.

Inuyasha yelped.

"Hey, what the hell did it do to my sword?"

He wiped his finger along a fuzzy, beige film covering the blade. Kagome pointed at a patch blackish-brown decay near the hilt and made a face.

"I think Tessaiga has cavities," she answered.


	12. Hearts and Clubs

_Hearts and Clubs_

Kagome peeled the wrapper from a pack of cards.

"Are they sutras?" inquired Miroku.

The air had been crackling around Sango since Miroku had propositioned an attractive fishermonger. Something had to be done.

"They're cards. You two are going to play a game."

"What's that funny shape?" asked Shippou, peering from her shoulder.

"Those are clubs."

"Like _Hiraikotsu_?" the kitsune snickered.

"That's not helpful," Kagome said primly. She dealt the deck and thought of easy games. "I can teach Go Fish, War–"

"WAR," chose Sango. She glowered at the wincing monk.

Kagome sighed. "Lay down your top card..."

They awkwardly followed her instructions.

"Ace trumps seven," Kagome announced. "Miroku wins!"

"Wouldn't seven have the advantage in combat?" Sango asked uncertainly, as Miroku retrieved his card and collected hers.

"That's not how it works. Go on, try again!" Kagome encouraged.

They did. Both glanced at their cards, each other, then away—flustered.

Kagome pointed to Sango's queen of clubs and opened her mouth to speak.

"Sango wins," Miroku interrupted. Eyes modestly averted, he plucked the king of hearts between his thumb and forefinger, and presented it to Sango.

"What were you saying, Kagome-chan?" asked Sango, blushing.

"Oh, nothing," she answered.


	13. Impermanence

_Impermanence_

  
_The shard glittered in the sunlight; its point embedded in the trunk of a weeping cherry tree._

Heavy boughs of white blossoms shudder in the spring breeze. There are other petals, whispers of pink clouds above the demon's head, soft clusters of serenity. Emphemera.

White clouds gather. A willow trails into the creek; drips her still-closed green buds into the current. Tadpoles swarm and pool and disperse. A draft moves the fronds and carries the light and airy essence of purple wisteria from across the bank.

A full-grown kitsune reaches up and plucks the fragment from the tree.

The demon is keen-eyed, his tails brushy and red. Healthy, clever and young, eager and determined to live a long, trick-filled life. He shows his find to the kit beside him. On his face he feels the breeze.

"Look, son! A shard of the Shikon jewel!"

Shippo's delighted eyes are green. He claps his hands.

The shard glints pink: a frozen petal, a cherry's tear. Sharp-edged. Unbreakable. Destined to last.


	14. Even Field

_Even Field_

Fog rolls over Japan during the rainy summer season.

You breathe the stuff of clouds into your mouth and the ordinary, familiar, and safe are obscured. Fog is a threshold, Heaven mingles with Earth, mortals can unwittingly trespass in the realm of those who live in the skies.

Inuyasha struggles in Izayoi's arms. He wants down; he is so close to learning how to crawl. When he tries he crouches on all fours, rocking back and forth with frustration, lacking momentum.

Izayoi also struggles: with her wild, too strong child, with the wet cough that has lingered since winter.

Myouga disappears.

Izayoi sees the eyes first. Blond eyes that do not blend into the fog—unlike their spotless white silks, hair like nacre of pearl, skin the color of bones. Two figures gradually emerge, garbed in royal furs.

The young man (the _first-born_ son) stands behind the woman. He strokes the pelt on his shoulder.

His clean nails gleam.

Inuyasha recognizes something in the air and squeals in excitement.

Izayoi knows she should show deference. The White Lady smiles without mirth.

Izayoi does not bow. She hugs her child proudly. 

A new haze separates her from them; their outlines loom, grow monstrously large, disappear.

"Lady Izayoi, there you are!" hems Myouga, reappearing by her ear. "We must have been separated…" A sweat drop trickles down his forehead.

"We should make haste, these mountains are not safe," he whispers.

"Wait," she says.

She lowers Inuyasha to the soft earth. He shrieks in delight; curls and digs his small-clawed fingers and toes into the loam.

"Part-human," she murmurs. "You are his son with _human_ blood—always be proud of that, Inuyasha!"


	15. Our Family's Not Mad. We're Eccentric!

_Our Family's Not Mad. We're Eccentric!_

Don't look so cold, Sesshoumaru! Do you think your mother would eat her own grandchild? Even if it is a hanyou.

_Fine._ I won't. What fuss.

You've grown very odd, Sesshoumaru. No one can blame your fondness for humans on my side of the family.

But maybe I am _partially_ responsible. I shouldn't have eaten kitsune in the first trimester or danced with inebriated possums when I was pregnant.

Therefore, I have decided to accept this situation. Because you can't help the eccentricities you inherited from your father—

And I should never have gone skinny dipping during a full moon.


	16. Behind Every Successful Dog is a Successful Feline

_Behind Every Successful Dog is a Successful Feline_

In the heady moments after Naraku's downfall, they thanked her.

"We could never have done it without you, Kirara!"

It wasn't true, of course, just the kind of thing one said to one's companions after an arduous quest and battle. The truth was they could never have done it without the half-demon, or the strange young miko who'd dropped into their lives from another world.

But Kirara chirped happily all the same, rubbing her face against her beloved _taijiya_ 's lap, and licking the tears from her cheeks. In days that followed she threaded closely around the ankles of the resurrected boy.

Years passed, smaller joys and smaller sorrows, one life ended and another began. Time became more ordinary, filled with fish, long naps in the sun, the bearing and care of hundreds of kittens. Sometimes a child would give her a name, sometimes she had none.

One life, when she was plump and comfortable, she paused while washing and noticed that there was something _familiar_ about the shrine keeper's grand-daughter.

So she strained to remember, and on a night when the girl had grown to what she guessed was the correct age, Buyo led her to the abandoned well.


	17. Once Bitten

_Once Bitten_

They could smell the human before they saw her.

The old one crept closer, panting quietly, leading the pack in the cover the trees provided.

A nondescript human child hummed and gathered mushrooms in the shadows. Her back was to them.

The old one did not notice it until she startled, the mushrooms rolling from her lap as she straightened and froze in fear:

_Her checkered kimono was orange and white in the moonlight._

His eyes fixed on the pattern, he recognized it, and he began to tremble.

The wolf whined, flattening his ears and drawing back his lips. His flanks heaved. Urine streamed onto the forest floor.

He was too paralyzed to bark a warning.

One of the yearlings stepped toward the girl, a growl in the back of his throat. The child screamed a name. 

_A flash of white and silver. Amber eyes. An anguished yelp--choked off. A wolf's gurgle._

He ripped his eyes from the kimono and fled, the smell of his children's blood in his fur.


	18. Jitters

_Jitters_

"What makes you think that I, Sesshoumaru, know less than any other male about human sexuality?"

Seshoumaru was so surprised the woman had dared to ask such a question that he actually allowed her to finish speaking without melting her into a steaming puddle of toxins.

"That's what I was afraid of," Kagome replied, much too knowingly for his tastes.

Forty-five minutes later, after Kagome had gone back into her house, Inuyasha cautiously approached the powerful youkai.

"So… Did you two have your, uh, little talk?"

Sesshoumaru said nothing. He looked shaken.

Inuyasha hesitantly continued.

"Did she tell you not to—"

"Yes."

"And she suggested that you—"

"Yes."

"And did she tell you about the pl—"

"Inuyasha," Sesshoumaru said quietly, "If you don't shut up, I'll pull your skull from your spine."

Inuyasha looked at him sympathetically.

There was a commotion in the small hut and the door flap was lifted. Rin stepped out, dressed in a white kimono and headdress. A clucking, cheerful Kagome followed closely behind.

Rin peeped at Sesshoumaru from beneath the edge of her headdress, beaming a wide, sudden, and eager smile.

Sesshoumaru gulped, and wondered if it was too late to provoke Inuyasha into killing him.


	19. The Best Years of Our Lives

_The Best Years of Our Lives_

"Bye, Gramps," Kagome mumbled, rubbing angry tears from her eyes. _How could Inuyasha be such a jerk?!_ She hopped into the well and was gone.

Grandpa Higurashi waited in the shrine. He hummed a little, tapping his foot. He checked his watch, sneaking a quick look at his reflection on the tiny surface and smoothing his beard into a fine point.

Ten minutes passed and there was a scrabbling noise within the well. A weathered hand appeared and was quickly grabbed by the elderly man. A few moments of grunting and groaning later, the priestess Kaede climbed out of the well. The couple struggled to catch their breaths.

"What was the matter with Kagome?" asked Kaede.

"She's fighting with Inuyasha again. Something or other," he wheezed. "Silly teenagers. My granddaughter didn't see you, did she?"

"Of course not. Young people are always in such a terrible rush. I don't think Kagome's ever even paused to consider that an old miko like me might also pass through the well."

Grandpa grinned. "What should we do tonight, my dear?"

"I think I'd like a nice dinner," Kaede answered as she brushed away dirt. "Then you can take me back to those _moving pictures_."

Grandpa checked the time again. "If we hurry we can make the Early Bird Special at Shōgun Sushi Palace."

"Early Bird?" hooted Kaede. "What makes ye think I plan on going home early, old man?" She poked him in the ribs.

"Eh, heh, heh, heh..." chuckled Grandpa, taking her arm proudly in his.


	20. Return to Me

_Return to Me_

The officer was not the first she had seen lose an arm, nor was he the only patient she was responsible for tending. But from the moment he arrived at the hospital, she was inexplicably drawn to him. She changed his bandages daily and spent time she didn't have patiently lifting broth and rice to his lips. He seemed to want little of either.

Gravely injured and sedated with morphine, he usually slept. When he did wake, she sometimes observed a fleeting glow threaded in the irises that studied her.

"What's your name?" he asked one evening. His eyes were still closed.

"Rin."

It irritated her that she had offered it so immediately. His eyes opened and she saw it again, that odd hint like sunlight in his eyes.

"How goes the war?"

"Badly."

He looked sour. "You visit often."

"Don't read anything into it," she snapped. "I feel as though I owe you something. A debt."

"A debt?" His teeth were very white but too pointed to be attractive.

"I will not let you die!"

He snorted indifferently. She turned to leave.

"Flowers—"

His voice stopped her.

"You smell… like flowers."

"Nonsense. We're not allowed to wear perfume. And there are no flowers these days."

Still, the next morning she stopped to purchase him flowers from a woman outside the barracks. Wrapped in old paper, the wilted bunches were stained with newspaper ink.

The chief surgeon, a bossy and toadish, but ultimately harmless man, was examining the patient when she arrived.

"Do I... Do I know you, young man?" Dr. Jaken-ushi asked, squinting through his glasses.

Rin's hands trembled. She felt a mysterious sense of reunion. If she could have, she would have reached out and hugged them both.

Instead, she looked deeply into the officer's suddenly uncertain, strange light eyes and—for the first time in two years—smiled like a child.


	21. Wardrobe Malfunction

_Wardrobe Malfunction_

  
"Wait!" ordered Kagome, stepping in front of Inuyasha and leaning ever-so-slightly forward in the direction of the departing wind sorceress.

A stray breeze rippled and gently lifted the hem of her green skirt, revealing a firm pert bottom in white lace-trimmed panties.

Inuyasha cocked his head. "What are those funny-looking things you're wearing under your skirt, Kagome?"

"Sweet Buddha!" cried the monk.

"What are you all staring at? It's the Sengoku Jidai, it's not like any of you even _wear_ panties!" Kagome snapped irritably.

Sango flushed beet-red.

"Is this true, Sango?" asked Miroku gravely, extending his palm.

"It's strange we've never seen Kagome's panties before," mused Shippou, raising his voice to be heard over Sango's growl and a subsequent slap. "Not even when she rides her bike, or the time she fell through the air, or the time we were caught in Naraku's whirlwind, or that day we fell in the river..."

"It is odd," agreed Myouga.

"Yeah, and it was _so odd_ that I happened to lose my top the last time I ran into Sesshoumaru," commented Kagura airily, snapping her fan shut with the flick of a wrist.

"Keh." Inuyaha poked his nose into the air. "Kagome probably showed her panties on purpose to get attention."

Kagome turned the color of Sango's cheeks.

"OSUWARI!" she shouted, holding her skirt firmly against her sides in the sudden _whoosh_ of air.


	22. Shinidamachu

_Shinidamachu_

Princess Wakasa contracted smallpox late in childhood.

Her fever raged and for ten days she balanced between life and death. Her skin puckered with lesions and pustules like embedded rice. The servants who tended her also fell ill and died. Finally, the sores broke and drained, and her eyes, once sealed by pus and infection, opened. She recovered, but her face was forever pitted and scared, knobby and shiny in the places where the scabs had fallen.

Even the servants mocked her. Her father overheard her nurse call her _Mountain Ogre_ to the cook and had the old woman soundly beaten.

She was still wealthy enough for her father to find her a husband. The evening her intended was brought to meet her, she had her women cover her face in a heavy layer of rice powder.

"Was your mother a piece of chalk?" he asked bitterly.

She took poison that night.

The more honorable method would have been by blade—a swift and purifying end. But the princess was too timid to tear her own flesh. And secretly, deep in her soul, there was a part that wanted to linger, a spiteful and childish impulse that longed to hear them all _be sorry_ , to hear them wail and weep and beat their breasts for her.

And weep they did: One of her women told her father the words his daughter's intended had said, and he rose up in rage.

Linger she did: For two days, as her organs shut down and her toes and fingers turned black.

It was an agonizing way to die.

_Suffering_. In her final moments, she prayed: "Merciful Buddha, my whole life has been suffering. Please—"

Excruciating pain shot through her body like burning, wriggling, needles. Her muscles froze and became vises clamping on her desperate lungs. Her decaying heart lurched and spasmed and her mouth filled with blood.

"Merciful Buddha!" she cried. "When I am reborn, let me have a beautiful face!"

Her women were making noises, there was a cloth pressed against her forehead. They held down her limbs as she coughed and convulsed and spat more blood.

"A beautiful face! Make me a peasant or a whore, but give me a beautiful face!"

There was noise and commotion and pain.

Her soul—a shining white ball—rose from her chest and began its slow ascent, bobbing on unseen currents toward the heavens. She drifted above the sick room and through the wooden ceiling into the cool night air.

_Peace. Escape. Rebirth._ All waited for her beyond.

Without warning, the soul felt six tiny clamps like insects' legs, latch to it.

The startled soul trembled. The Shinidamachu unfurled and beat their powerful tails against the wind, surging downward.

"Hush," the soul collectors soothed. They clicked like cicadas, rubbing their forelegs against the shining bubble. "Hush, the Lady Kikyou has suffered so much. She regrets so deeply..."

The soul quivered. It had no voice to scream. Lacking internal momentum or power, it couldn't even struggle as it was carried hundreds of miles across dark countryside and mountains.

The moments broke down into a series of unconnected images, fear, and panic. There was a woman alone and a black forest. There were the red and white robes of a priestess. The woman's face was very beautiful, impassive, and white as death.

_No! I want to leave_ , the soul shuddered. _I want to leave this world! I want to—_

The priestess cupped her fingers and pushed it into her empty chest.


	23. In the Family Way

_In the Family Way_

"You're doing this to get back at me."

"Sesshoumaru, darling, I care for you very much but you are not the be-all, end-all of my existence. Your mother is still a very attractive dog demon, young at heart with a lot of love to give. That hasn't changed just because you've gone and made me a grandmother."

"You're doing this to get back at Father."

She dismissed the notion with a cheerful, elegant wave. "I have long since reconciled myself to your father's shameless abandonment of his family. Obviously, gallanting around Japan with human hussies of questionable character was important to him and his development as an individual. Who am I to judge?"

"Mother," Sesshoumaru began again. He took three calming breaths and mentally counted to ten. He pictured his Happy Place: a field full of little Rins picking little flowers where there was absolutely, positively nothing he could possibly want to maim, throttle, or kill. "Mother, this—"

"Be respectful," she warned ominously.

"This… person… is very, very, _very_ far beneath you."

"Sesshoumaru, son... sama?" tried Jaken. Sesshoumaru growled.

"Look at it this way, dearest. Your new half-sibling will be a full-blooded youkai!"

CRASH!

"Sesshoumaru-sama! Sesshoumaru-sama! Will—will he be alright?" Jaken asked his new bride, nervously clutching her arm as Tenseiga and its master slowly clattered down the stone steps of the shiro with a faint _clank, clank, clank_.

"Of course, my love!" She affectionately patted the green hand. "He's simply _overcome_ with happiness."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have all my old Inuyasha drabbles. If I decide to write any new ones, I'll begin a separate collection. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!


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